For Her First Birthday
by Mr. Spinner
Summary: After the events of Skin Game, Harry takes a little trip with his daughters to ask a favor from an acquaintance on the Council. H has a birthday gift in mind, one that doesn't exactly show up in CostCo. One-shot, shameless fluff. Read and Review!


**For Her First Birthday**

"Are we there yet?"

I glanced down at my little girl, Maggie, and chuckled. "No, Maggie, we're not there yet." Were we? I gently touched by silver pentacle amulet, a gift from my late mother (who, as it turned out, Maggie had been named for) that contained all of her near-encyclopedic knowledge of the Ways through the Nevernever. Whispered directions echoed in the back of my mind, confirming my words. "But we're not far off," I added.

Maggie smiled and burrowed deeper into her black wool peacoat, grey fleece visible at the edges. I couldn't help but smile every time I saw her in that; Michael had theorized that she had asked for it simply to emulate my duster.

Mouse, formerly my hulking Temple Dog and now Maggie's protector, made a soft chuffing noise and nuzzled Maggie's shoulder, drawing a giggle and a scratch behind the ears from her. And all the while, Mouse's ears never stopped moving. Guess Maggie being in the Nevernever at all made him paranoid. Good dog.

As we kept moving along the snowy mountain pass of this region of the Nevernever, Maggie kept adjusting the strings of the drawstring flannel bag in her arms, the strings themselves wrapped around her small hand for extra grip. Every time, her eyebrows narrowed in the most adorably focused way (hey, I'm a dad - we think everything about our kids is cute!) Not surprising, considering it held her little sister. Or, at least, held the vessel that protected her.

As we approached the location that would let us cross over to the end of our journey, a large stone bridge that crossed a narrow, frozen river between two of the mountains, Mouse halted his approach. Since I'm such a smart guy, it only took me half a step to follow suit. Maggie, who's apparently smarter than her old man, stopped as soon as Mouse did.

From the shadows beneath the bridge emerged a massive figure, oven ten feet tall and built like it'd been carved from the mountains it lived in. Grey skin covered in scars stretched over bulges of muscles that looked like they could smash me into roadkill. Cords of some kind of hair strung around its neck and arms, covered in ornaments of flint and bone. The only thing it wore besides those was a matted loincloth of rawhide. Well, that and the massive club slung across its back.

Great, a troll.

"Ho there, wizard," the beast rumbled.

"I do not budge," I drawled, "keep your 'ho there'."

The troll's scowl twisted with confusion for just a second before the scowl returned, deeper than before. As if on cue, the wind changed and blew the thing's scent at us. Through years of mental training, I had developed the discipline to merely grimace at the troll's rank smell, like rotting onions and roadkill.

Maggie had no such training and openly retched. Even Mouse sneezed, poor guy.

At the sound of Maggie's gagging, the troll's eyes seemed to sparkle. Historically speaking, trolls have a long history with children. A bloody, violent history that brought the ire of both me and the Winter Mantle roaring up to smash this brute where he stood. Only through the application of the aforementioned discipline did I reel those in.

Granted, I had no particular preference for trolls. In fact, their "history" made me dislike them on principle. But trolls were technically a part of the Winter Court of Faery. And my being the Winter Knight and all, it meant I had to try to give the situation a token gesture of diplomacy. Barring that, I could revert to Plan Billy Goat: blast this thug screaming into the river.

"And who is this morsel, wizard?" the troll asked. "It seems like an excellent toll."

Maggie, again showing her brains, flipped her bag under one arm and slung the other over Mouse's shoulders. Mouse simply stood there, his stance unshakable and his presence an almost tangible wall. And the look in his eyes gave a message more clear than skywriting. _Touch her at your own peril_.

"She is not for you," I merely growled. Who says I can't be diplomatic? "Let us pass, troll." I shouldered my staff and focused a tiny effort of will to make the runes carved along it glow with a faint greenish light. "Or things get ugly." I grinned, making it was wolfish as possible. "And I doubt you want to tussle with a Knight."

The troll took a step back and growled, baring teeth that looked like crumbling tombstones. For a few tense moments, I thought I would have to bring out my Gruff impression. Then the troll stomped its foot in frustration and moved aside. "Go, wizard. You and yours may pass."

I clicked my tongue, making sure mouse kept his eyes on the troll. Fairies are kinda particular about wording their agreements. He'd agreed we could pass, but not unmolested. And it would be just like a troll to hit a victim when their back was turned.

Lucky, for us or the troll depending on who you asked, the bridge-dweller was smarter than he looked. Not that that would be too difficult. We passed by without any further trouble.

At the dead-center of the bridge, I took Maggie's hand and focused my will. With a wave of my staff and a muttered " _Aparturum_ ," a Way through to the real world opened up. Wasting no time, I hustled Mouse through, trusting in his senses to make sure nothing was amiss. A single chuffing noise told me it was clear, and I nudged Maggie through as well before turning to make sure we weren't followed, backing through, and letting the Way close.

I turned back to face the way we had approached to find us standing on another stone bridge, this one much smaller and spanning a natural canal. Like back in the Nevernever, snow fell from grey skies, though this was fluffy flakes rather than shards of hard ice.

"Welcome," I said to no one in particular, "to Belgium."

* * *

As bad luck would have it, we had arrived just as the sun was setting, local time. The power of the Winter knight made me immune, or at least insanely resistant, to the cold, and Mouse's thick fur had been bred for the god awful cold of Tibet. Maggie had neither of those things, and she was beginning to shiver under her knitted wool cap.

Following the smell of coffee, I led the group to a stand and purchased a paper cup of hot chocolate for my little girl. Maggie smiled and took a sip, which opened the floodgates for her praise of Belgian chocolate. What do you know? Some things "they" say are right.

For Mouse, I got a hot pretzel. Poor sucker, being a dog, couldn't handle chocolate.

As an afterthought, I got myself a cup, too. Part of it was to blend in, what with most people actually affected by the biting cold. But a larger part was just to try the stuff that had Maggie smiling.

Had to admit, the kid knows her stuff.

With our warming, kid-friendly brews in hand, we moved along as I pulled out a map of Bruges, the city, from one of my duster's voluminous pockets. Handwritten arrows and directions led from this particular bridge to a specific address. A note in red ink said "Burn when finished." Seemed like a fair deal, what with my old mentor/grandfather supplying the directions in the first place.

A good twenty minute walk led us to the address, which was an old school toy store backed up against one of the canals. A simple wooden sign spanned above the door, reading "Schneider Spielzueg". Based on what I knew of the owner, i assumed it meant something along the lines of "Schneider's Toys".

The business hours revealed the shop had closed an hour ago, but that didn't stop me from professionally knocking on the front door. A few seconds later and the somehow simultaneously overbearing and subtle sense of power I'd felt about the building from fifty feet away wavered about the front door and the door swung open. I ushered Maggie and Mouse in before closing the door, the wards snapping back into place as soon as the door clicked shut.

It was dark for a handful of heartbeats, then candles scattered around the room flared to life, illuminating shelves upon shelves of _toys_. Not those modern lumps of plastic and circuitry that pass for toys today, or even lumps of plastic that stood in their place in my time. I mean honest-to-God, old school, wood-and-cloth toys. Hand-carved wood wagons, cloth dollies, wind-up ducks. The works.

"Welcome to my home, Wizard Dresden," said a rich voice. I turned to find a small man wearing, I kid you not, a night shirt and a pointed nightcap, a candle in a holder in his right hand.

A high gasp was my only warning before Maggie shouted "SANTA!" at the top of her lungs and bolted for our host. He didn't even bat an eyelash as he scooped Maggie up with a hearty chuckle and returned her aggressive hug.

Now, I've met the _actual_ Santa Clause, or at least a more hardcore, battle-oriented side of him known simply as "Kringle". Plus his oldest side, known as Donar Vadderung. Or Odin. That being said, had I never met him/them, and had I not known this man's real origin, I would have probably given a much more _manly_ geek-out and shaken hands with this Santa.

This man was really named Klaus Schneider, hence the sign outside, and was a powerful and respected member of the White Council of Wizards. And when I say "powerful" and "respected", I mean he was seriously considered for the vacant spot on the Senior council, the seven most powerful wizards on the entire freakin' Council, even though he was "too young". He'd turned the spot down and vouched for Ebenezar McCoy, my mentor and grandfather.

As he hugged and laughed with my little girl, I couldn't help but size the man up. He really was small, easily dwarfed by my near-freakish height. But his white hair, round cheeks, and even rounder belly made him look like a favorite grandpa.

Klaus was something of a fairy tale in the White Council. For one, he was by all accounts (which, for me, meant McCoy's accounts) a decent human being. He was honest by nature and, given his profession, had never let go of his inner child. And that wasn't getting into how he had beaten a Nazi sorcerer and his summoned demons with foci made from _toys_.

As both their giggles wound down, Klaus put Maggie back on solid ground and brushed off his noticeably scarred hands. Maggie spared no time in whirling around and demanding why I had never mentioned that I knew Santa.

"You never asked," I said simply, which made her huff, cross her arms, old the pose for a few seconds, and then relax and giggle.

"Wizard Schneider," I greeted. "Sorry about the late hour." I glanced at Maggie, who was mouthing the word "wizard" with something approaching awe.

"Not at all, my boy. Anything for an old friend. And please, call me Klaus. Everyone does."

"Okay … Klaus." Klaus smiled and gestured for us to follow. As we passed by him, he barely had to bend over to give Mouse a good ear-scratching.

The back door to the storefront led to a narrow stairway that led to what I could only assume were Klaus's living quarters. The walls of the one-room apartment were bare, unpainted brick packed with a merry (ha!) fireplace, full-to-bursting bookshelves and hand-painted portraits. A curtained-off corner presumably had his bed, while the opposite corner had a small kitchen with a wood-burning stove. Another corner had a large desk covered with tools, wood shavings, and unfinished toys.

Klaus sighed heavily in contentment as he settled into a comfy armchair and gestured for us to sit in a large carved wooden chair. I settled and Maggie, somehow having quickly grown into a daddy's girl, climbed up to sit in my lap. Mouse made a circle by the chair and plopped down with a heavy sigh, not unlike Klaus's.

"So," Klaus said, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Ebenezer was rather tightlipped about that particular detail."

Maggie glanced up at me, curiosity burning in her eyes. She'd needled me about my reasons for taking her on this "adventure" too. A smiled and gently removed the flannel bag from her hand, even as she put up habitual resistance, and unlaced it to reveal a hand-carved wooden skull. My own work, as a matter of fact.

Klaus sat up straighter and leaned forward to examine the skull. "Hmm, a little rough, I must admit, but not shabby at all," he surmised. "I assume this was built to hold some kind of spirit?"

"Yeah," I admitted, "but not the one who took possession of it." I looked down to the skull. "Come on out," I told it, gently.

Two pinpricks of green light appeared in the skull's eye sockets, which grew to illuminate their entirety. "Greetings, Wizard Schneider," a timid voice echoed from within the skull.

"Oh-ho, a spirit of intellect," Klaus deduced. His eyebrow quirked and he looked into my eyes for a brief moment. Brief enough to avoid a soulgaze, but long enough to ask a question.

"Yep, she's mine," I answered.

"Her name is Bonnie," Maggie supplied. Well, Bonea. But it sounded the same. Since I had introduced Maggie to her "little sister", she'd been thrilled. And when someone had casually called her an "it", Maggie had been quick to correct them.

Klaus leaned back and stroked his wispy white beard for a moment. "Now I'm even more curious," he said. "So I must ask, what exactly are you here for, young Dresden." He glanced at Maggie. "Especially as you saw fit to bring your little girl."

"I'm offering up a challenge," I responded confidently, far more confidently than I felt.

"Challenge?" he asked.

"Yeah. Getting older doesn't lessen the thrill of those, does it?"

Klaus actually laughed at that. "Quite the opposite, in fact," he said. "And I'm certain you know this." I did. I had reasoned out a long time ago that the older a wizard gets, the more they look for a challenge. Their magic gets more powerful, their skills more refined, their experience wider. But as the old saying goes, victory is boring. And if there's anything humanity, even wizards, hates, it's sheer, mind-numbing boredom.

"So what challenge are you offering?" Klaus prompted.

"I want to see if you can make my daughter a body," I declared.

Maggie gasped and covered her mouth with joy, Bonea actually yelped, Mouse lifted his head in surprise.

Klaus's eyes widened ever-so-slightly before they narrowed in thought. He stroked his beard and hummed to himself, his expression so intense I could almost see the gears turning in his head.

"And I assume you have something to offer aside from a fresh challenge?" His tone indicated it wasn't necessary, but he wanted to know anyway.

"I'll owe you one," I said simply.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "If Vadderung can take that, so can I."

With those words, as if by some buried instinct, I glanced back at the door to a coat rack. Almost hidden by the rest of the garments, in the back hung a simple grey cloak.

* * *

The general consensus among the White Council was that Ancient Mai, an ancient, elegant, scary Chinese woman on the Senior Council, was the best of the best in crafting and enchanting. I'd seen some of her work up close and personal in the form of her Temple Dog security statues.

Assuming the general consensus was true, there was no way Klaus was far behind. I had assumed it would take him more than a few months to work his magic (ha ha), but it was barely six weeks before a large wooden box arrived at the desk of the apartment building I stayed at, courtesy of my former apprentice, Molly. I signed for it and lugged it downstairs, passing through the wards with my copy of the copper key used to get into her basement apartment, and set it in the middle of her basketball court-sized living room.

Upon opening the box, my jaw fell down in surprise. A heartbeat later, I was calling Michael's house to inform them I was picking up the girls.

* * *

Maggie stared wide-eyed as I lay out the contents of the box across the hardwood floor. Bonea, given her eyes couldn't actually widen, had settled on her eye-lights glowing slightly brighter than normal.

Before us lay an all-but-perfect replica of a human body. I took the scroll clutched in one of the doll's hands and read the contents out loud. "Framework made of rowan wood, flesh of promethean clay, hair of a thoroughbred mare, eyes of tourmaline for color." The note went on to explain other magical features of the work, which I chose to explain later. After the important part.

I lowered the letter and knelt next to Maggie to examine the replica more closely. Before we had left Klaus's home, he had asked to "have a chat" with Bonea, to get a feel for how she would look. Gazing upon his finished work, I was utterly floored.

The model looked exactly as I had seen her in my subconscious. It favored me, mixing my features with those of several women who had been important to me. My dark hair, Karrin's square, balanced chin, Ivy's rounded cheeks, Susan's jawline (a facet she shared with Maggie), Elaine's nose, and Kim Delany's hair style.

I glanced at Maggie and nodded toward Bonea's skull. Maggie nodded and gently put the skull down. "Go on, sis," she said. "It's your birthday present. Try it on." I couldn't help but chuckle at Maggie comparing an intricate magical construct to a new outfit. Then again, that's pretty much what it was.

A cloud of gree sparks emerged from the skull's eyes and coalesced into a humanoid shape before dissolving again and entering the dummy through its chest, right where the heart would be.

A few moments later, the dummy's eyes twitched, its fingers gently flexing. The eyes opened, revealing irises that perfectly matched the blue-green of Bonea's metal appearance, inherited from her "mother", Lash. She glanced at us and her chest expanded as if with a breath before she sat up. She held her hands out in front of her and opened and closed them, trying them out.

"I think it worked," Bonea smiled, her voice perfectly stable.

Her skin seemed made of pale ivory or marble, a mix of my own borderline-sickly pallor and Lash's prefered form of flawless pale skin. but Klaus had taken it a step further. Promethean clay was an alchemical substance used for high-end magical automatons, named for the Greek Prometheus who had supposedly fashioned humans from clay. It was ridiculously hard to make or otherwise acquire, and was in a sense self-repairing, allowing objects made of it to regenerate using applied magical or spiritual energy and regular river clay.

And as Bonea smiled, her new vessel perfectly matching the joyous stretch of her lips, I couldn't help but tear up.

Maggie ramming into her sister in a hug, and Bonea returning it in full force, made be openly cry.

* * *

Bonnie read over the note Klaus had sent, memorizing the instructions for caring for her new vessel. Using it would apparently tire her out, unlike the skull, so she would sleep inside the skull and inhabit the vessel when strong enough.

Another set of Klaus's notes contained complex diagrams and formulae that explained how the vessel had been created, how to repair it if too damaged, and even how to make one entirely from scratch should it be necessary. His notes stipulated that we burn them after reading, but Bonea was a spirit of intellect, her recall almost perfect.

She'd remember every word.

"Why are you older than me?" Maggie asked suddenly, drawing both my and Bonnie's attention. Bonnie glanced at me, timidly asking me to take this one.

"I think it's because she grows faster," I explained. "Maggie, you're a little girl with a normal growing body. Bonnie is a spirit of intellect and she grows stronger, and literally grows, as she learns things. She was born with knowledge from me and the imprint of an angel, and she only continued to learn while she was developing inside my head." Most of this was my own guesswork, but it would work for now. "She's not older, really, she just grows … differently."

"I'm still your little sister," Bonnie said. She smiled. "And besides, this body doesn't grow; you do. You'll look older than me in a couple of years, just like big sisters are meant to."

This seemed to mollify Maggie, who took Bonnie's wrist and introduced her, formally, to Mouse. Mouse, ever the drama queen, took his time examining her new vessel before chuffing in approval and licking her hand. Bonnie giggled, actually giggled, and double-teamed with Maggie to ruffle his fur.

Triple-teamed, once I got over there.

* * *

That night, as I prepared for bed after bathing Maggie, I came into Molly's living room to find both my girls asleep on the couch, Maggie curled up into Bonnie's side. Both were snoring … and looked utterly at peace.

Sometimes being a wizard sucks, since I couldn't use a camera to capture this moment. So, being the determined guy that I am, I crept closer and devoted all my focus into carving this scene into my memory. No matter what happened, I was determined to never forget this.

My little girls, snoozing with their sisters.

 **Just a little one-shot that's been bouncing around in my head. I really hope we see more Maggie and Bonea in "Peace Talks".**

 **For the record, the name "Bonea" and nickname "Bonnie" are the real names for "the parasite". Jim Butcher put it on Reddit. Personally, I would have go** **ne with Minerva/Minnie, what with the whole smart entity for from her father's skull thing.**

 **Schneider Spielzueg roughly translates to "Schneider Toys" in German, the main language of Klaus the Toymaker's native Belgium. For the record, yes he's a part of canon. He's in "Summer Knight" and mentioned in "Turn Coat". Personally, given his described temprament and that he vouched for McCoy to be on the Senior Council, I think he's also Grey Council.**

 **As for Bonea's new body, you could think of it as the magical equivalent of an automaton. It's a magical replica of a human body to be inhabited by her to interact with the real world, to learn morality and experience life on her own. I think Harry would want that even for his non-human daughter. *My original plan was to have the svartalves build her vessel, but they seem too cold, too utilitarian. Klaus the Toymaker was, to me, a better choice.**

 **Finally, the name is in reference to Bonea's "birth" from Harry's mind at the end of "Skin Game". In a sense, this vessel is her first birthday present.**

 **What'd you guys think?! Leave a review and let me know, or give your ideas on what's coming up in "Peace Talks".**

 **Hope you enjoyed it! And may your muse never waver!**


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